Nox Natalis
by Enbrethiliel
Summary: 31 July 2029: The story of how Kyle Reese came into possession of the last surviving photograph of Sarah Connor. A oneshot.


_Sergeant Reese, General Connor, and Commander Perry are not my characters. They belong to James Cameron, whose early work I greatly admire and only wish to honour. Peterson and Lamb may be my own, but they are based on two very good friends of mine. Therefore, any similarity to real life was probably intentional._

_Reviews, comments and constructive criticism are always welcome! Thanks a lot!_

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**"**_**Reese**_**, DN38416! On your feet, soldier!" **

**The young sergeant was awake and on his feet instantly. He was nothing if not well-trained . . . and Commander Perry's voice rivaled the gunfire that he had learned to sleep through. **

**"Report to General Connor immediately." **

**"Yes, **_**sir**_**!" **

**"Take Peterson and Lamb with you." **

**"Yes, sir." **

**Like Reese, the two young privates had been jolted awake by Perry's raspy voice. Unlike him, they still scrambled for their gear, used to the dim light of the bunker. For the past three weeks, Reese had been responsible for the young men's combat training . . . not that they needed it. Growing up in the middle of the War was all anyone needed to sharpen his senses and hone his instincts. **

**Sure enough, at the sound of unexpected gunfire, Peterson and Lamb did not need Reese to tell them where to take cover--or where to point their arms. Within seconds, they were firing away at the T-800 which had infiltrated their bunker, Peterson even succeeding in laming its shooting arm. **

**In the instant that it took the machine to transfer the gun to its functioning hand and turn its focus to the sergeant and his two trainees, Reese managed to light one of his fuse bombs . . . and to throw it with deadly accuracy. Peterson and Lamb knew enough to duck before the explosion sent shrapnel flying in all directions. **

**When the air had cleared, a filthy little girl carrying a spanner almost as long as her arm ran towards the fallen T-800. **

**"Stop!" Reese yelled, lunging for the child. **

**"Let go!" she squealed, dropping the spanner, narrowly missing his right foot. **

**"Lamb!" he barked, impatiently jerking his head in the direction of the machine. **

**The private understood, advancing with caution. The success of the fuse bombs with the first Terminators had not been lost on Skynet. The new T-800 series were equipped with emergency power cells designed to restore power in the event that the main cells were damaged. It had cost the lives of many scavengers--mostly children--before TechCom had figured out what was happening. **

**No one was surprised when an exposed exoskeleton hand suddenly grabbed Lamb's leg and pulled him down. Lamb himself had clearly been expecting it. In a split second, he had shot off the hand at the wrist and was rooting about in the torso for the power cells. **

**"Clear!" he yelled a moment later. **

**Satisfied, Reese let go of the little girl, who made straight for the already severed hand. He did not stop to watch as a dozen children joined her to scavenge what parts they could. His orders had been to report to General Connor immediately. **

**"Sergeant Reese?" **

**He turned automatically and saw the general himself standing next to him. Reese snapped to attention immediately. **

**"At ease," the general said, fixing his enigmatic eyes on one of his bravest young officers. Then, turning on his heel: "Come with me . . ." **

**As Peterson and Lamb started to follow, Connor added: "Only Sergeant Reese." **

**Reese would have followed Connor anywhere--into the very heart of Skynet, if Connor only asked him to. It was almost slavish devotion he had for his general, since the day Connor had liberated his concentration camp. The order had been the same then, too:**_** Come with me. Come with me if you want to live. **_

**The work camp had been all Reese had ever known in his life. Anything he had learned of the outside world had come to him through his mother--before the hard labour had killed her at last.**_** Leave me**_**, she had begged her ten-year-old son, as he struggled to drag her away from the rubber-skinned Terminators tasked with guarding the human slaves.**_** Just leave me. **_**Then a Terminator spotted them, terrifying Reese into running away. He never saw her again. He wanted to die. **

**Some time later--maybe a week, maybe a year: Reese did not care--TechCom liberated the camp. Not even the rousing sight of Resistance fighters scaling what had once been insurmountable walls and overwhelming the dreaded Terminators who tried to kill them moved the jaded Reese.**_** Come with me if you want to live! **_**He had been crouching behind a pile of rubble, ready to rush into the line of fire, which was the surest way to kill himself, when the voice had frozen him to the spot. He felt his hatred for the machines, which had festered as fear for so long, suddenly harden into courage.**

**Within moments, the man behind the voice came striding up to him--as if he had known where to look. As he stared up at the imposing General Connor, he heard the voice address him directly:**_** On your feet, soldier! **_

**He had been a loyal member of the Resistance ever since. **

**Now he followed the general through the mazes of TechCom, acutely aware of every soldier who stood to attention and saluted as they passed. Connor did not turn to him again until they were alone. **

**Reese spoke first. "Your orders, sir?" **

**"At ease, Sergeant." **

**Though he was surprised, Reese obeyed. **

**Fixing another intense stare on the younger man, the general asked: "Do you know what day it is today, soldier?" **

**Of course he knew. Everyone in the Resistance was required to observe the calendar. Every fighter had to be able to state the correct date upon request. It was one of General Connor's orders that had never made sense to Reese, but he was proud to be able to answer now. **

**"Yes, sir. It's July 31, sir." **

**"Yes. It's also your birthday." **

**Reese's eyes widened. He himself had not known his own birthday. **

**"Soon before you were born, Skynet started keeping records of all humans born in their work camps. We've uncovered yours." He suddenly looked weary. "It is a very rare thing, these days, for anyone to know the significant dates in his life." **

**Reese remained silent.**

**"Incidentally," the General continued, "we also liberated your camp on July 31st . . . fifteen years ago." **

**Still Reese did not speak. Dates and other such details were tech stuff he had never bothered to think about. **

**"We were too late to also save your mother. Her file states that she died on May 12th." **

**At the mention of his mother, Reese clenched his jaw. He should have expected the general to mention her. Connor's own mother had been a legend, a Resistance fighter even before Judgment Day had cast the world into chaos. **

**"Do you remember her?" Connor asked. **

**"No, sir." It was a lie. **

**"It must have been hard for her to watch you grow up in that place." **

**"Sir, these days, it's hard for all mothers, sir." **

**"That's true . . ." **

**Then the general reached into his breast pocket, pulled out a folded bit of paper, and handed it to Reese. **

**"My orders, General?" **

**"My mother, Sergeant." **

**Reese quickly unfolded the paper. It was an old, worn photograph of a young woman. **

**"Sarah Connor," he whispered. Not knowing that General Connor was watching him intently, he traced the line of her face with his fingertip. He had never seen such a beautiful woman in his entire life. **

**"In the days before the War," Connor continued, "birthdays were celebrated with presents. If I could, I would give you a photograph of your own mother. Since that happens to be beyond me, a photograph of my mother will have to do." **

**"But, sir--" **

_**"Dismissed!" **_

**To Reese's great relief, Peterson and Lamb had fallen asleep again by the time he returned to their post. **

**Wearily sitting down next to his threadbare bedroll, he pulled out the photograph again. He could just make out Sarah Connor's features in the flickering firelight. She looked so beautiful . . . and so sad. He wished he could go across time and find her, meet her, hear her voice, touch her face . . . **

**If Reese did not care for the calendar, then neither could he be bothered with a watch; and so he did not mark when July 31st ended and August 1st began. He barely even registered how, as one day slowly faded into the other, and as he finally sank into sleep, his last word was a whisper: **

_**"Sarah . . ."**_


End file.
